Okay… you can do this, Charlie. You have to do this.
The princess's hands tremble as she pushes the end of the thread through the tiny needle eye. Her heart's hammering in her chest, nerves churning her stomach. She manages to tie the thread's ends tightly, and turns to Vaggie for the makeshift disinfectant.
Vaggie's just soaked a spare piece of Lucifer's coat, and the strong smell of the alcohol permeates the air. Charlie receives the whiskey and dips the needle and thread into the neck of the bottle, making sure to swirl it around to steep like a tea bag as she looks over their to-be 'patient'.
Adam's still completely unconscious, sweating profusely and pale. Charlie had cut through his ruined cassock - not an easy task with only Niffty's tiny sewing scissors - and let him lie on top of the torn fabric like a tarp. He's left bare from the waist up, his skin exposed to the hot Hell air. It felt wrong to strip him even a bit, but it was necessary to get a better angle to see the extent of his injuries.
His previous stab wounds from Niffty are still present, but they're strangely not open and bleeding anymore. Something had closed them, a strange substance sticking the edges of the many tiny holes together. They look like they've already begun the process of scarring, which is weird considering they were inflicted maybe two hours ago. One of the wounds is open again, looking like it was torn into after its initial sealing.
Then again, Alastor did mention he'd healed Adam, so this is probably the extent the Radio Demon went to. It's very obviously a halfhearted job, though, which makes sense since Alastor's goal was not helping the First Man, but mangling him.
The most significant of Adam's injuries are - obviously - the two gaping, gushing holes where his wings used to be. They're deep and raw, grisly gobbets and bits of broken nerves hanging off the edges. Shredded muscles are cut open, looking like thousands of tiny threads come loose.
A lot of Adam's insides are a rich gold to match his blood - Charlie's no biology expert, but it does make sense, since the reds of humans' and demons' organs and muscles stem from their blood's color.
There's also a glimpse of white mixed in - his ribs, probably… hopefully. Charlie can't help but wonder if Adam's wings were attached to his spine and took pieces of it with them - if that's the case, wouldn't he be paralyzed? Or could there be a way to heal that with magic? This is all new territory for her, obviously, and it's very frightening the more she overthinks.
Regardless, the area is too flooded with blood to truly see the extent of the damage. She'll need to hurry. If only her head wasn't throbbing and her mind fuzzy…
"Babe, are you sure you're alright?"
What a strange question! She definitely isn't the one that anyone should be worried about right now, so Charlie laughs it away, nervously running her hands through her hair. "Y-yeah! Yeah… of course I am…"
There's really no other choice for her, anyway. Though she's apprehensive as all hell at the seriousness of this 'surgery,' she knows that she's the only one who should bear the burden. Vaggie's the only other person who would probably be prepared enough, but she's also the last one Charlie would ask to do it.
Adam did hurt everyone, but he had a particularly rough past with Vaggie, and because of that, Charlie wouldn't ever ask her to sew him back together. No, this was Charlie's idea in the first place, so she needs to be the one to do it.
Still, it's not difficult for Vaggie to see right through her nervous smile, so Charlie doesn't bother hiding her anxiety. Gripping the whiskey bottle nervously, the princess admits, "W-well, to be honest, I, um… ah, fuck, I'm nervous as all hell. I've never done this level of first aid before, Vaggie!" Sure, she knows the basics - ice for bruises, disinfect materials, band-aids are your best friend - but that's just it, the skills are basic. The predicament she's found herself in is anything but!
"I don't think any of us have," Vaggie admits. "Heaven didn't need medicine, but all exorcists were taught basic care so we could watch each other's backs down here during the Exterminations." Her brow creases in thought. "That doesn't mean I've ever had to close wounds with thread before, though - especially nothing as large as these."
Angel Dust wiggles his eyebrows. "Ya think Adam would be pleased he's got the biggest holes you've eva seen?"
Husk's tail lightly smacks him, and the spider yelps dramatically. "Shut it," the cat snaps.
Usually, Angel's risque jokes would amuse Charlie, but right now, it could not be less of what they need for the situation. Not when the life of a man - the First Man, to be exact - is on the line. And, though he's a major asshole who needs an attitude adjustment to say the least , Charlie still can't bring herself to be cold and uncaring towards him. And she'd certainly be a complete hypocrite if she refuses to help just because she doesn't like him.
Quickly, she glances back to the hotel rubble. Her father and Alastor are even further away than before, arguing about something as some support beams are magically constructed and raised high above the ground.
No luck asking her dad last minute, then.
Charlie gives a despondent sigh. "What if I mess something up?" she whispers. "What if I… kill him by accident?"
"You're already giving him a fighting chance, more than he would've had otherwise," Vaggie points out, and her tone is just so unbelievably soothing. "We can do this. Take a deep breath, okay?"
Charlie heeds the advice, inhaling and exhaling in a rhythmic manner. "Thanks," she says. "I know this is a lot to ask for, but thank you, Vaggie."
Her girlfriend blushes. "Like I said, we're a team. You'll need someone constantly dabbing rags on him as you work, to soak up everything. I'm with you, Charlie - if you're the MD, I'm your nurse."
"You would look cute in one'a those uniforms," Angel remarks, and Charlie can't actually disagree with that.
Rolling her eye, Vaggie continues, "I'll try to keep track of his vitals if I can. I know what to look for if things start to go south." After a beat, she clarifies, "Well… I'm pretty sure I could figure out if he's about to die."
Charlie nods. That's about all she can ask for, anyway. "I guess we should… restrain him first," she begins unsurely. "Angel, can you, um… hold him down? If he starts moving around, your extra arms will be super helpful in keeping him still!"
"Oh, you don't know half of what I can use these for, babydoll," Angel purrs, causing both Vaggie and Husk to groan. The spider demon does as instructed though, gently gripping his hands around Adam's splayed out arms and legs.
Without prompting, Husk gingerly sets his paw on the back of Adam's neck. "I have a feeling the dumbass is gonna try to move his head, too, which would just be counterproductive. I can keep an eye on him up here, too."
"Good thinking." Charlie looks at Niffty, unsure of what task to give her at first. "Can you thread some more needles, Niffty? Just in case we need extras."
"On it!" The maid exclaims with a little salute.
"Alright, Dr. Morningstar, are you ready?" Vaggie asks, already gathering fabric strips to use. "Pour that whiskey all over, and make sure not to leave any spot untouched. We gotta be thorough." With a sort of sad smile, she adds, "And I'm not saying that because I want to see him squirm. It's just the best way to ensure we're working with as sterile an area as we can manage out here."
"Of course." Charlie flashes her girlfriend a loving gaze. She never had any doubts about the kindness Vaggie holds in her heart, but it's always refreshing to see proof of it right on display.
How did I get so lucky? she wonders, but it's hardly the time to gush. Right - no more distractions!
Giving one last final deep breath, Charlie tips the bottle of whiskey over Adam's back, the stream of alcohol splashing into one of the holes.
The effect is instantaneous.
Adam's whole body goes rigid, his muscles tightening and his limbs immediately trying to move. As he realizes, in whatever state of consciousness (or lack thereof) he's in, that his body's restrained, he begins to thrash further to get out of the grip.
(Well, there goes Charlie's worries about paralysis, at least.)
Angel curses softly, tightening his hold on the man's limbs, and Husk makes sure to keep his head pinned to the ground. Vaggie begins to wipe at any stray blood or liquor that leaks out and trails down his back.
The angel's eyes snap open but he looks blinded, his pupils blown wide and his stare unfocused. His mouth opens up, presumably to scream, but blood dribbles down from his lips, and he can't seem to push out a sound. Charlie imagines it's because he's already screamed his throat raw while he was with Alastor, but that doesn't stop him from trying to communicate.
He's gasping for breath, his shoulders shaking up and down with each heave. Since he can't yell, Adam takes to whispering, his desperate pleas striking Charlie right through the heart.
"F-fuck," he gasps. "Fuck, stop, fuck, stop it, stop, stop-"
He continues to try to buck Angel and Husk off him, and Charlie can see that she only has a limited time to do her work before something gives.
"Adam, please, try to calm down," she begs him, continuing to quickly pour the whiskey. She makes sure to soak the wounds in it, not leaving any bit of muscle untouched. It has to be a slow process; like watering a plant, she must wait for the first bit of alcohol to seep through before pouring another sluice. "You're going to hurt yourself more!"
But he's way beyond understanding her words right now, and it's foolish to even try. He's barely conscious on any level, in a complete state of panic, a fight-or-flight mode triggered by the pain. Just running on desperate, waning adrenaline. They should just wait it out, but Charlie's afraid of when his strength finally fizzles away - she fears the end of his stamina would mean the end of his life.
His back muscles are rippling and spasming wildly, and it takes a moment for Charlie to understand what's happening: he's trying to move his wings. Instinctively, he's trying to fly away and protect himself and he can't. He can't use his wings anymore, and he's beyond remembering that, and it's heartbreaking.
"I'm so sorry," she whispers, blinking tears away. "I promise, I'm going as fast as I can. Almost- almost done with this part." Though it's only the first step of a painful process, she wants to keep encouraging him that they're getting through it. Even if he can't hear her, it helps her keep on track at the very least.
"F…fck…ng… stop!" Adam cries, wriggling and struggling. "St-stop!"
"The bad boy's so squirmy~!" Niffty coos with a cackle.
Charlie pauses pouring for a second, trying to give him a moment of respite, but he doesn't seem to notice it's stopped. He's still fighting for his life against Angel and Husk, coughing and wheezing in his struggle.
"Babe, don't let up," Vaggie instructs, still pragmatically mopping up fluids. "Hold him tighter," she instructs the boys.
"What the fuck do you think we're doin'?" Angel hisses. "For once, I'd rather not be all up in a guy's business like dis!"
Husk's tail lashes in irritation. "Gonna have to hurry it up, Princess."
"R-right!" Charlie refocuses her efforts, being as quick and accurate as she can.
Adam's seizing finally starts to slow, and it's the first sign that he's losing consciousness again. As he twitches weakly in their grasp, he keens, the sound broken and hoarse and endless. He's not even saying words anymore, it's just that sad, quiet cry.
The bottle is nearly empty once Charlie's finally finished, and she sets it down and raises her arms up dramatically. "Okay- finished with that!"
Eventually, the mournful whine dies out, and Adam's eyes slip close as he goes limp.
Charlie's heart skips a beat. "Is he-"
"He's still alive," Vaggie assures.
"Well, how's it lookin' back there? After all that?" Husk asks. "Can't be pretty I imagine, but can you see what you're dealin' with at least?"
Vaggie wipes away the last of the liquid and blood, allowing Charlie a good look at the lacerations and the state they're in after disinfecting.
It's the same mesh of colors and tones she saw earlier, but something in particular stands out now that the area is cleaner and rinsed out. The most striking contrast to the gold and white shades is two large streaks of black muscle tissue. Like twin rivers on a map, the black forms thick lines stretching from the top of the gashes to the bottom. Even with the strange angel anatomy, it looks unhealthy and dangerous.
Charlie sucks in a breath and reports her findings to her friends.
"Black?" Husk echoes. "...well, I ain't no doctor, but I think it's dead tissue. You probably gotta remove it before we sew 'im up."
"Remove-?" Charlie's face grows somehow even paler, her stomach doing flip-flops. "How would I even…?"
"Burn it off," Vaggie says grimly, squeezing her eye shut.
"With what?!" Angel squawks.
Vaggie sighs. "There's… only one thing we know that harms angels." She turns her head towards Niffty, who looks up at her innocently. "It'll… it'll have to be used to get rid of the dead muscles, too."
Niffty gasps. "I can stab the angel again!?"
"N-no, we're not stabbing him," Charlie says shakily. "I'll… have to use it gently, and only cut away the dead tissue." Using a pointed dagger like a steak knife will be… challenging, to say the least. She takes an unsteady breath; this is a lot for her, but she knows she can't stop now - she has to see this through the whole way.
The little cyclops happily hands the knife over. Charlie weighs it in her hands, scrutinizing her 'patient'. She had hoped to give him an actual minute to rest, but it can't be helped.
"Sorry Adam, we have to keep going," she whispers, the First Man none-the-wiser as to what's about to happen to him. Somehow, they've managed to find a method of care that's even worse than pouring burning alcohol over gaping wounds.
Being very, very, veerrry careful, Charlie begins to drag the angelic dagger's tip across the black tissue. Whatever power is able to kill an angel in this sort of weapon radiates from it, glowing a sharp white like the glare of the sun. It produces a burning effect, just as Vaggie said.
The muscles underneath sizzle and shrivel under the blade, the smell of overcooked meat filling the air almost immediately. Adam is forced back to semi-consciousness again, hissing in pain with a full-body flinch. His eyes screw shut tighter and his hands ball into fists as he twists a bit and tries to lift his head. He's spent all his energy thrashing before, and is far too weak to really put up a fight now. Husk just shushes him - more gently than expected of the cat demon, surprisingly.
"It sucks, man, I know," Husk mutters. "It's for your own good."
Adam's still beyond comprehending what's going on, clearly - but, true to his oppositional nature, he still gives another weak struggle and verbally tries, yet again, to get them to cease.
"Please, please, stop," he slurs, his voice a hoarse whisper. "E-enough, enough. Please. P-please. I can't-"
It's frightening how someone once so proud has been reduced to this begging mess - it just proves that anyone can lose themselves, if they're in enough pain.
It's not satisfying, it's not gratifying, it's not a win. Though they'd triumphed in their most recent battle against Heaven, Charlie feels no sense of victory here, in having to do this. The looks on her friends' faces tell her that they feel no different.
"This is to help you," she whispers, more to herself than to the angel. It sounds ludicrous, claiming to someone unconscious that the intense pain she's inflicting upon him is for his benefit , but it's the unfortunate truth.
Just for a moment, she wonders if this qualifies as torturing him, just like Alastor had done. It's a scary thought for sure. She cannot even imagine how much pain he must be feeling; the very thought of it makes her empathetic heart ache.
"...please… stop…"
But she doesn't stop. She keeps carving into the dead flesh, severing the ruined pieces. The cut muscle shreds look like withered, black slugs that had been left out in the sun too long. Niffty hands over a pair of tweezers from her kit, and Charlie begins to pinch the bits of dead tissue and pull them out. She makes a tiny pile of gore nearby, suppressing a gag and trying to keep the stuff out of her line of sight if she can help it.
There's really no telling if what she's doing is helping, but at the very least, the black streaks don't spread further to infect any other muscles. Sure, some of the healthy muscles' edges are slightly charred, but they don't look too damaged.
By the time it's all done, Niffty - bless her weird little heart - takes the initiative and picks up the pieces, shoving them into her pockets. She mumbles something about adding to her 'collection,' but no one dares to ask for details.
Charlie exchanges a disturbed glance with her girlfriend. "Well… at least we can't see that shit anymore," Vaggie points out, and Charlie shrugs in agreement.
"Okay… one last thing to do." It's arguably the most important of these makeshift medical procedures she's imitating - the very thing she decided to do once she knew the bleeding wouldn't stop otherwise.
Charlie picks up the needle and thread.
Niffty scampers back over. "Here here here!" she cries, setting down five more disinfected, threaded needles next to Charlie. "Extras!"
"Thank you," Charlie replies, happy to have spares in case anything goes wrong. And… well, considering how this whole procedure is going - not to mention it being done by someone not even at novice level - it's very likely that things won't go exactly according to plan.
A rumble sounds in the distance - presumably the new hotel finally knitting together - but Charlie has to press on. She can't check back with her father, and she can't give Adam a break.
Alright… here we go.
Pushing forward, Charlie focuses the needle point on the edge of the right laceration. Poking it through the skin makes Adam wince, but he's beyond exhausted at this point. She guides the tool all the way through, bringing the thick thread along with it, and pulls it tight. Then, she inserts the needle on the other edge of the wound and repeats the process, tugging it to close it, bit by bit.
It's a horrifically slow process, just like every other fucking step of this impromptu surgery has been. Charlie wants it to be over so very badly, but she makes sure not to rush and risk ruining something. She's sewn things before, but with skin and muscle, it's a hundred times more complicated. There's blood and sweat sticking to the thread, the shredded skin is thicker in some spots than others, and Adam's back muscles occasionally twitch reflectively, threatening to take the needle right out of her hands.
There's also Adam's breathing, which is much too fast and shallow, and the soft whines that sporadically escape him. Combined with the construction sounds behind her and the natural sounds of Hell, it's all very overstimulating.
At one point, the thread snaps. With a groan, Charlie finishes tying what she can of what's left, and grabs another prepared needle. Thank goodness for her and Niffty's foresight.
She keeps going. Tearing tiny holes through skin, winding and tightening the thread so it remains embedded, forcing torn pieces of flesh together.
It's grueling, and sloppy, and sickening how much gold gets everywhere - but Charlie doesn't stop. Her fingers are growing numb and stiff, sweat sticking her hair to her face. There's a bone-deep ache that seeps into her, one that makes her want to sleep for days, but she doesn't stop.
And, slowly but surely, there is visible progress. Once she finishes closing one wound, she begins on the next. Just as diligently, she pushes the needle through and continues stitching.
"He hasn't made a noise in a while," she notes to her friends, not daring to take an eye off her work. "How is he looking?"
"Mm… still breathing," Husk reports.
"Fuck, he sure is a stubborn jackass," Angel sneers.
"You don't know the half of it," Vaggie deadpans. She wipes at the closed laceration, cleaning up the crusted gold around the edges.
After a few more minutes of the excruciating process, Charlie ties the final knot in the last bit of thread. It doesn't look like perfect work, but she at least did her absolute best, and she hopes it's enough.
"Aaaand…done!" she proclaims loudly, panting in exhaustion. Her bloodied fingers quickly drop the needle to the ground like it burned her. Her body, so tight with tension, relaxes slightly as she sits back on her backside to catch her breath. "Shit, it's- it's done." The relief she feels is dizzying; fuck, she never wants to do something like that again if she can help it.
"Great job, babe," Vaggie praises, moving to sit next to her.
Husk lifts his paw from the angel's neck, and Angel releases his hold, too. Adam doesn't so much as twitch.
The five of them sit in silence, catching their breaths after that whole ordeal. Their unconscious charge sleeps on, dead to the world.
Niffty pokes at Adam curiously, being noticeably gentle even as her quirky self. "Soooo… is the bad boy gonna be okay?" She smirks. "He's such a mess! I wanna clean him up~!"
With a frown, Charlie follows Niffty's giant eye's gaze to observe the aftermath of the work she'd just done.
It's… not a pretty sight.
Where wings once were, there are now only jagged, swollen scars dashed with black thread. Adam's body will have to mend itself without the absent limbs, hopefully being able to scab and repair the broken flesh.
Charlie can only keep her eyes glued to Adam and his wingless torso, her mind beginning to feel fuzzy as her panic slowly depletes.
She barely registers the swish of a portal sounding, and the two sets of feet that step through.
"Oh Chaaaarlie~!" Her father's voice nearly makes her jump, how singsong-y and cheerful he is. "Come and see what I did! You're gonna be so proud of your dear old dad!"
"Ah, trying to take all the credit? I suppose royalty is as royalty does, no matter the setting." Alastor's filtered voice announces his presence next. Charlie swallows back a bit of apprehensiveness that churns through her at the sound of the Radio Demon, subtly inching just a bit closer to Adam. She trusts Alastor to keep his word - he'd promised that he wouldn't bring harm to Adam so long as the angel's defenseless and not aggressive - but there's just that tiny bit of uncertainty that makes her nervous.
Both her father and Alastor continue to step toward her from behind, bickering amongst themselves, but Charlie is so far away from the voices around her, her mind as numb as her fingers.
"Haha, be careful there, Al - Charlie might get the wrong idea, you talking about royalty like that. Did you forget she's the Princess of Hell?"
"What is it today with everyone purposefully misconstruing my name? Things did not end well for the last - 'first' - man to disrespect me, as you can plainly see."
"Oh, finally! I found some common ground with an angel! See? Even someone like him can tell you're tacky as shit."
"Tacky -!?"
"Yes, and I think Charlie will agree with me!" Lucifer's right behind her now. "Right, Char-Char? Uh… wait, huh…?" The taunting tease in his voice fizzles away when he notices the states both his daughter and her 'patient' are in. "Wh-what happened over here?"
The seriousness of the situation sobers his tone, and Charlie's finally able to turn her head to look at him. His eyes are glued to Adam, face twisted in shock as he takes in the sight of the twin grisly, sealed-up lesions on the angel's back.
"Th-the bandages weren't enough," she begins to explain quietly, her breath hitching. She rises to her feet, turning around fully towards her father and Alastor. Her words are jumbled and almost noncoherent as they tumble out of her mouth. She tries to recount everything she just did for Adam, every torturous method of first aid she had to put him through: disinfecting with alcohol, burning him and cutting parts of his muscle away, closing him up with a sewing needle …
Lucifer's eyes grow more wide as she speaks, Alastor's narrowing at the same time.
After she explains, she weakly holds her bloodied hands up, her whole body trembling with waning adrenaline and stress-born tears in her eyes. The sheer exhaustion that hits her is so sudden, so strong , that the world spins for a moment and she feels faint. She nearly loses her balance and falls back down to her knees, but Vaggie is quick to press into her side, supporting her with whispers of encouragement and comfort. Her father snaps out of his stupor and rushes to help as well, his face twisting further in concern.
"Oh, Charlie…" Lucifer murmurs. Before he fully comforts his daughter, though, he turns to the unconscious angel and waves a hand. A whitish glow spreads over the two sewn gashes, adding a touch of healing magic to fully bring the First Man away from the brink of death. He then summons some actual medical-grade bandages to wrap around Adam's torso, completely padding and snugly dressing the injuries. "You should have called me over to help…"
Charlie watches him, stunned at how simple it is for him to fix things - how quickly he'd stabilized her shaky needlework. With a shake of her head, she weakly replies, "I-I couldn't risk it, you were too far away. I h-had to think fast, so I… we…"
"You did it," her father assures, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You. Did. It. He's gonna be okay. Okay?" With an awkward pause, he adds quickly, "I mean- he'll probably be, like, super cranky when he wakes up without wings, but- he's alive. Thanks to you."
Vaggie rubs her back comfortingly. "It's true. That was so much work, but it paid off. You saved his life, just like you wanted."
The words are reassuring. Charlie flashes a tired smile and nods, collecting herself enough to stand on her own again.
"Holy shit guys!" Angel exclaims suddenly, completely cutting through the sweet moment. "Are you seein' this!?" He's waving all four hands excitedly, pointing towards the hotel- the hotel!
God, how could she have forgotten the reason her father was too far away to reach in the first place? Charlie whips her head around, her heart skipping a beat at the amazing sight before her.
The new hotel scrapes the red sky at a much larger height than the original version, the sign in huge bold letters at the top. The foundation is more filled out, giving the overall shape a more balanced look. Hundreds of brilliant lights decorate the structure, marquees and signs placed in an eye-catching manner that's sure to attract a few repentant sinners. A large radio tower is attached securely to the building by what looks like a private elevator, designs of electricity waves etched into the glass.
Right in front of the hotel's foyer stands a large statue of Dazzle in his true form, a beautiful tribute to their fallen companion. They'll have to create something for Sir Pentious, as well; Charlie will brainstorm with everyone about that soon.
"Do… do you like it?" Lucifer asks, almost shyly.
Honestly, it's… it's the most wonderful thing Charlie's ever seen. It's a bright beacon of hope and change - like a beautiful phoenix rising from the ashes of all the grief and pain brought on by this day. She'd like nothing more than to just stare at it all day, basking in all the positive emotions she feels about it.
But although she feels so strongly, she just isn't able to find the strength to react with much of her usual enthusiasm. The fatigue is rapidly catching up to her.
Still, she grabs her father and pulls him into a hug, squeezing him as tightly as she can. "Thank you," she whispers. Her mind is completely muddled from all the stress, but she still wants to show some of her gratitude. "Thank you so much."
"Anything for you, little lady," Lucifer murmurs with a warm chuckle. When they part, his hands meet her shoulders again. "How about we go check it out? I'll give you the full tour."
"I want to, Dad, but… do you mind if we hold off on that for now?" Charlie glances at her gold-stained hands, her torn outfit, the scrapes and bruises along her body - not to mention the source of all the strife still lying unconscious before them.
"Yeah, I think we all need some time to recover before we can explore all the rooms, Your Majesty," Vaggie adds.
Thankfully, her father can clearly see how tired everyone is, and nods in agreement. "Of course! No worries at all." His eyes flick to Adam, and he reluctantly continues, "I'll go put him up in a room now."
Charlie wants to protest, as it's her job to make sure their 'guest' is settled in properly, but Lucifer keeps speaking before she can.
"I made a ward that's sort of isolated for him - enough that he won't bother anyone. There's just, uh, one thing I need to do before we go. Something I want to make sure you know about."
Charlie tilts her head. "What is it?"
"Well, this is… for everyone's safety," Lucifer begins, before snapping his fingers. Two small, silver bands appear out of thin air, hovering above Adam's body. After sparking for a moment with white magic light, they securely fit themselves around Adam's wrists. They're reminiscent of a pair of handcuffs that humans use for prisoners, Charlie recognizes, but don't have the chain that binds them together. Honestly, they look like two accessories - if they didn't clash so much with Adam's usual color scheme, she'd think he was just wearing bracelets.
Still doesn't explain what they actually are, though…
At his daughter's questioning glance, the king explains, "They're cuffs to suppress his angelic powers, so that he doesn't start blasting us all with holy light once he comes to. I don't know the extent of what he can do while injured, but I know he won't be in this comatose state forever, so I'd rather preemptively subdue him-" Charlie immediately opens her mouth, and he cuts her off with a quick, "-and no, they do not hurt him."
It's not… ideal, but Charlie can see the necessity - kind of like muzzling a dog that bites until it learns not to. "Okay, Dad," she relents, not really wanting to argue. If they're not hurting anyone, she has nothing to argue against, anyway. "Just… be careful with him?" She could play off her concern by justifying that she doesn't want her hard work to be for nothing, but she does genuinely want Adam to be okay.
Yes, Adam's a genocidal, misogynistic jerk, but… Charlie has the heaviest of bleeding hearts. That's just who she is.
Luckily, her father knows this. "You got it, sweetheart," he replies, kneeling down and maneuvering Adam gently onto his back. He carefully lifts the First Man into his arms - not an easy task considering the size difference and Adam's injuries - and conjures a portal to the inside of a hotel room. With a confident nod, he steps through and the two disappear.
"Would'a been nice of him to create some portals for us…" Husk mumbles.
"Yeah, my whole body's gonna be sore tomorrow - not even in the good way," Angel chimes in, stretching his arms. "I dunno 'bout you guys, but I am ready to sleep for a fuckin' year."
"You can say that again," Vaggie scoffs.
"I look forward to your reception of the new interior," Alastor chuckles, with a proud lift of his head. "You'll notice I had a hand in more than a few of the new design choices."
"Show me, sir!" Niffty exclaims. "I wanna see it all~!"
Charlie can hardly focus on the voices and conversations around her. With the dangerous tasks thankfully complete, her body is rapidly draining of adrenaline and turning off the lights, so to speak. She stumbles again as she steps towards the hotel, once again caught by her girlfriend.
"Whoa there, easy, babe," Vaggie murmurs softly. "Let's get you cleaned up, alright?" Though she's shorter than Charlie, she's able to scoop the princess up in her arms - so strong! - and effortlessly float off the ground.
Charlie stares at the beautiful lavender wings sprouting from Vaggie's back, and thinks of how cruel it was to take them in the first place. How devastating it must be for creatures of flight to have them ripped away. She wonders how Adam will react when he wakes without them. Would he ever be able to grow them back, like Vaggie did? Or does the deal with Alastor prevent that?
Too many questions and not enough answers right now. Her brain is absolutely fried, the weight of all she had to do today rapidly catching up with her. For now, she just clings to her girlfriend and allows herself to be carried to their room - conveniently exactly where it used to be, same floor and all.
The bedroom's larger than it was before, but has mostly the same layout, and their personal belongings have been conjured back. There's a cute vase placed on the nightstand with Hell-species flowers and a little note of encouragement from Lucifer - normally, such a gesture would've made Charlie melt, but she's too drained to even look twice at the gift right now.
She's placed down in the bathroom, on top of the toilet seat. Vaggie wets a washcloth and wipes at Charlie's face, swiping it gently across her cheeks and nose. Charlie's head is pounding, her whole body aching and weak. She silently stares down at her shaking, bloodied hands, trying to stop thinking about why they are so stained. The cloth turns gold and Vaggie grabs another, continuing to clean Charlie's face and eventually her hands, replacing wipe after wipe until there's not a drop of blood left.
"I think it's time for bed, hon," Vaggie whispers, leaning forward and tenderly pressing their foreheads together. "It's been a long day."
'Long day' is putting it lightly, but Charlie nods silently as she's led to the bed. Vaggie settles her under the soft cover of the comforter, and crawls in next to her. Something is bubbling up inside her, a strong tension that's been building since even before the battle - but it's nearing its boiling point, and she can't fight it back anymore.
"Are you okay?" Vaggie asks, then shakes her head. "Sorry, that's a stupid question. What I meant was - do you need anything?"
Charlie shakes her head, a whimper leaving her lips as she melts into Vaggie's warmth, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend. Her vision goes blurry with tears, and after sucking in a long, shaky breath, something just… snaps.
Screwing her eyes shut, she buries her face in Vaggie's chest and sobs.
Vaggie stiffens in surprise for just a second at the outburst, but she's quick to recover and hugs the princess back. Her fingers stroke Charlie's hair, not even bothered by the tangled mess of blood, dirt, and sweat caked between the strands. Vaggie whispers soothing nonsense, keeping Charlie in her gentle embrace.
Charlie knows it's only harmful to hold all her feelings in, so she doesn't stop crying. She can't stop. The stress and fear and pain of the day all overwhelm her, mercilessly searing through her mind in flashbacks. She feels like someone peeled back her skin, her emotions and insecurities all exposed and gushing out of her like blood.
She cries for Sir Pentious, for Dazzle, for her hotel, for her hotel guests - her friends. For everyone she's ever let down with her ambitious dreams, and every time she's put someone in danger because of those dreams.
And, despite the complications of what happened and their history, she can't help but cry for Adam, too. For letting something horrible happen to him by one of her allies, and for having to help him in that traumatic and gruesome way - the stain of his blood on her hands, the smell of it burned into her senses, the unforgettable sight of him struggling and begging her to stop…
The guilt, the horror, the sorrow… it's all so muchright now, and takes everything out of her. Hopefully, she'll be back to her usual cheerful self soon, but for now, she lets herself come apart in private. She can be strong tomorrow.
So like a child, she continues to weep in Vaggie's safe hold, finding solace in it until exhaustion finally pulls her to sleep.